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<title>Make the Season Bright (21 Days of Yule) by RainbowVamp</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27712907">Make the Season Bright (21 Days of Yule)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainbowVamp/pseuds/RainbowVamp'>RainbowVamp</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Gen, some light dean dislike</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 15:29:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,447</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27712907</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainbowVamp/pseuds/RainbowVamp</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>One short ficlet/drabble/short story for every day of December. It was just supposed to be the 21 days leading up to Yule, but I don't know how to contain myself.<br/>These are all connected, but it's not quite a normal plot centric story. Just a series of short moments in your life with Sam Winchester. <br/>Check the notes for background that will make the fics make more sense</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sam Winchester &amp; You, Sam Winchester/You</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Hats</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Sam is still pyshic w/out having to drink demon blood. You are also psychic and there's a bit of</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="">
  <p>You see it in a shop. It’s just the right color, a faded blue with a little tassel at the top instead of a pom and it’s… it’s Sam’s. It has to be.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It compliments the barest hint of blue in his eyes, bringing out the cooler undertones in the usually warm hazel. You know this, because it’s the only thing you can see after you shove the had on his head, reckless and  uncaring for the state of his perfectly styled hair.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I’m good at gifts.” You tell him as you kiss him on the cheek.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He doesn’t argue.</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Hot Cocoa</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sam is surprised by the Cayenne in your hot chocolate. Oops</p>
<p>A double drabble. 200 Words. Sam x reader</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="">
  <p>You didn’t forget to tell him there was cayenne in your cocoa. You didn’t think he needed to know. You didn’t think he’d drink yours by mistake.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“What the hell.” Sam pants, going to the sink to get a drink of water straight from the tap. You pout, thinking maybe he’d burned himself on the hot cocoa he’d picked up, but when you sipped it it seemed like a fine temperature. Warm, not hot, and spiced just right. Oh. Spiced. He’d picked up yours. You sipped his and sure enough, it was a little bland, completely lacking any spicy, hot cayenne-y goodness. Normie.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Are you drinking that on purpose?” He asked, appalled, and you furrowed your eyebrows at him.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Yes. It’s good. What’s the problem?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“It’s… It’s hot, (Y/N).”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“It’s hot cocoa, Sam.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“It’s not supposed to be spicy hot, it’s supposed to be warmed-up hot.” He took a long drink from his own mug and you smirked a little behind your own.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Well, maybe you’ve been doing it wrong.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“No one does that.” He said, pointing at your offensive mug.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I do.” You take another sip just to tease him, and his glare is a gift.</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Decorations - Part 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>You buy decorations. It is very sad for some reason. Well, you know the reason, but you didn't except it to hit quite like this.</p>
<p>Sam x reader - I am posting a second, less sad thing later. I didn’t except this to be sad. :(</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="">
  <p>It’s strange to walk the isle and buy all these brand new, cheap looking decorations. Your mom’s old antique ornaments and the silly little angel that hadn’t lit up in years had all gone to your siblings when you ran off after their death. You knew that was kind of the logical conclusion of that particular stunt, but it still felt… not great.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Sam is somewhere else in the giant superstore, but you kind of wish he was here with you. The basket is full to bursting of things that you used to be able to just pull out of the attic and something about it is making you feel like you’re drowning in your own feelings.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Sam appears before you start to cry, but after your tears start to well up. “Hey, I felt something through the bond. Are you alright?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Sam and you had accidentally created some kind of weird psychic bond when his powers had returned earlier that year, but you didn’t really mind. It wasn’t an “I can always hear your thoughts” kind of bond and was more of a “I can tell when you’re in distress” kind of bond.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Yeah. I’m just…” You look at the full cart. “I thought I wanted this but… Maybe I don’t.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You do. You did. It’s alright.” He slings an arm around your shoulder and he pushes comfort at you over the bond, just to drive the point home.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“It’s too much. I just keep thinking about everything I can’t have and it feels so hollow. It’s just for show.” You push the basket away from you and it rolls down the isle, bumping into a rack of plastic ornaments in plastic cylinder boxes.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“If you don’t want it, we can go.” Sam offers, but you shake your head.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I’m going to suffer either way. I’d rather suffer while putting up decorations. We get to have a tree inside, Sam, it’s great.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Yeah,” he smiled, hugging you closer into his side and turning to kiss the top of your head. “It is great. Want me to go buy this while you head to the car?” You take a deep breath and swallow hard, trying to square up your shoulders and force yourself to just get the rest of it done, but you can’t. You’re exhausted in a way you didn’t know you could be.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Yeah. Um, I’ll get her warmed up.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Sounds like a plan.” He murmured, kissing the top of your head again. “Here’s the keys.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He hands you the keys and you take them, trying not to show the hunch in your shoulders or the grief in your eyes. This was supposed to be fun.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It wasn’t.</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Decorations - Part 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>You're on a ladder. This is a bad time to hug you from behind.</p>
<p>A bonus, because the other one made me sad! 200 words. Sam x Reader Have 2 today. &lt;3</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="">
  <p>So, actual real evergreen wreaths would have been cool, but the stall selling them on the way back only took cash, and you guys had maxed out the cash you could pull from Charlie’s wonder card this month.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>But the plastic ones that spilled little strips of bright green plastic were sort of humble looking in the elaborate elegance of the bunker.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I’m in love with you.” Sam said when you were standing on your tip toes, very carefully adjusting the topmost branches of the wreath. You could have done it before putting it up, but that would’ve been smart. So obviously that’s not what you did.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I love you too. Stop making fun of me and do this, you tall person.” You gave him the command, but you refused to get down from the ladder, so Sam wrapped his arms around your waist and hauled you bodily off of it. The only thing saving you from face planting was years of hunting and core strength.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I hate you.” You glare at him, crossing you arms as he sets you down and takes your palce on the ladder, barely needing the second rung to reach.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Sam smiled. “No you don’t.”</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. First Snow</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>You are Lorelai Gilmore, and you can smell snow. You rush out in the middle of the night with not enough clothes to see the first snow. Sam follows you and keeps shoving extra layers on you. (also, you have a psychic bond with him that I will never explore and you just have to accept :)</p>
<p>I am so proud and I am not accepting criticism on this. At all. Sam x reader - 500 words</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="">
  <p>You wake up in the middle of the night. The bedroom you share with Sam doesn’t have any windows, but you know it. You just know it. Through the layers and layers of warding, wood and air filtration, you can smell it.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Snow.” You whisper, getting out of bed and walking automatically to the door, barely having the forethought to hide your bare feet from the chilled hardwood.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Sam is stirred awake by your motion, and it takes him a moment to realize that you’re getting out of bed. You don’t even grab your robe, which isn’t unusual considering the comfortable temperature that they bunker usually sits at, even in the Lawrence winter, but he knows you. You’ve been mumbling about the coming snow when you thought he couldn’t hear for days, and if he reached out through your bond, he could just barely sense the thrum of thoughtlessness beneath your excitement. He grabbed his own shoes and then and entire bundle of discarded winter-wear from your shared desk chair before following you out.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>You walked mindlessly through the bunker, not even hearing the sounds of Sam’s footsteps following you, or his insistence that you wait for him.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Snow was here. You’d known it was coming, but it was finally here.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Sam was shoving his arms in a sweater and then a jacket, pulling a hat on and throwing on a scarf before he followed you and started throwing things at you as you walked.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>You trudged up the stairs, still half asleep, but slipped on the jacket Sam shoved at you without thinking, singlemindedly heading towards the entrance of the bunker, out into the snow.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Sam shoved a second jacket at you, and you put it on. It was too big, probably his, so it covered both your hands and made opening the door to the bunker unnecessarily hard.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Help.” You whined, addled by snow and sleep and unable to grasp the concept of rolling up the sleeves.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Before Sam opens the door, he shoved a hat on your head and wraps a thick scarf around your neck, draping it down so the place where you’d forgotten to zip the jacket was still well-covered.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Yes, my love.” He said with a teasing roll of his eyes as he kissed your head and let you slip outside into the first snow of the season.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Snow.” You whispered with wonder as the first flake landed on your nose. Sam kept the door propped open behind you and watched you just stand there, face turned up to the sky and smiling as more tiny frozen droplets landed on your bare skin and the netting of your hat.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Snow.” He repeated with a grin, brushing away a stray flake that landed in his morning shadow.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>You turned back to him and leaned against his warm body, tucking your cold nose into his chest as the snow continued to fall, soft in the night air.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Thank you for my clothes, Sam.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Anytime, sweetheart.”</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
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